The Late Night Chat
by muchmadness
Summary: Lindsay tells all.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own the characters. Set after Season 4. Probably will be two parts.

* * *

Danny looked like a little boy. The thought made Lindsay give a small laugh as she looked down at him, lying in the bed. The smooth skin, the way his eyelashes cast shadows on the skin below his eyes, the slightly parted mouth. She knelt on the floor next to the bed and touched a finger to his cheek, trailing it down to his ear. His index finger, resting so still on the sheets, twitched the tiniest bit.

She couldn't help but kiss his cheek. As she pulled back, she saw the faint stain of her pink-tinted chap-stick. She giggled and wiped it off.

"Well," she whispered, "It looks like someone is sleeping through our date." She touched his hair gently, brushing it back with gentle, feathery strokes. It had gotten long lately. She let her hand rest on top of his head and rubbed her thumb on his forehead. "I guess I'll just have to complain about it until you wake up. You've been working so hard lately, haven't you?"

He gave no response, save for a small sound – it could have been a sigh, Lindsay expected, but she thought it to be a sort of affirmative response.

She chuckled. "I should let you rest," she said, keeping her voice low and quiet, in a steady, soft whisper, "Mac will kill me if you're still tired when you wake up."

She pulled out her cell phone and checked the time. "You've been out for a while now, huh? About four hours…" she trailed off, frowning at him. "You've been so tired. I guess it's stress, huh? It must be stress."

She pulled out a candy bar from her purse and unwrapped it quietly, the wrapper crinkling, creating a disturbance in the still air of the hot, August night.

"You've had a lot on your plate lately. Rikki left. I knew that. You didn't have to tell me. That must be difficult. I know … I know she was your friend." Lindsay laughed, or scoffed rather. "I know she was more than your friend, too."

She paused, looking at the candy bar sadly. "I'm kind of having a hard time forgiving you for that," she said, more quiet than before. She cleared her throat and got up. She walked to the window. She opened it, letting a gentle, hot breeze blow into the room.

"I'm suffocating in here," she said, blinking away tears, "We might as well have some air from outside, hm?" She walked back over to the bed and sat down next to it, leaning her back on the mattress. She bit into the candy bar. The chocolate was already partially melted. She chewed and swallowed slowly.

"I can tell you're trying," she said to the hand that had dropped down the side of the mattress, "You're trying to make it better. Why else would you have asked me out? You didn't take my key back. You didn't break up with me. You asked me out."

Danny breathed loudly. Lindsay looked up at him, and took another bite of the candy bar. "To a really nice restaurant, too," she said around the chocolate and peanuts, "I mean, a really, _really _nice restaurant. If you were awake, and if you hurried, we might be able to …"

She shook her head. "It's too late now," she said, laughing, "In fact, I prefer just talking to you like this."

She took a look at the chocolate bar, now completely melted in its wrapper, a soupy mixture. She grimaced. "Granted, the food would have been better," she said slowly, "and I did get all nice and dressed up …" she looked down at her black dress, the silky material providing little relief from the heat.

She scrambled to her feet and walked over to the trashcan, her gold heels clicking on the floor. She threw the candy bar away, and sucked the melted chocolate off her fingers.

"I do like talking like this, though, I wasn't lying," she continued, sitting back down with her back to the mattress. "I'm working through stuff. If you were awake, you'd be jumping in and trying to explain it all," she laughed. "This way I can say all I want to say."

Her happy face turned into a frown. Her lower lip trembled; her voice came out shaky. "Thing is, Danny, I really loved you. I did. And you just … you acted like that meant nothing to you. I just felt like … I didn't matter to you anymore. And I appreciate that you worked it out. I'm happy that you're trying. But it's hard, you know? I still love you, but …"

She managed a smile. "But nothing. I love you. I'll try if you will." She rubbed at tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "You can say something, if you want. Or at least wake up," she joked.

She stood, and looked down at him. "You're always telling me you hate it when I cry," she said, working against the lump in her throat. "But I can't – I can't not – Danny," she whispered, and started sobbing in earnest. She leaned down on the bed, lifted his hand and pressed it to her cheek. "I'm so sorry I was so mean after you told me," she whimpered, "I'm so sorry, Danny, please, please forgive me." She sniffed, looked down at the wet, white sheets.

Her face set, the tears still dripping down it. "I forgave you, so you have to forgive me. OK? It's fair, right?" she asked, sniffing and fighting the tears. "I'll stop crying if you wake up," she begged, "Just wake up," she sobbed.

Flack walked into the hospital room, his eyes red-rimmed. "Linds," he said in a cracked voice.

"No, go away, I'm not done," Lindsay said weakly, her voice shaking.

"Linds, he's going to be OK," Flack said gently, "the surgery went well, and now it's just up to him. It's Danny, he's going to pull through."

"You don't know that," she sobbed, "So I have to be alone with him, Don, there are things I have to tell – he has to tell me things, Don, I can't –" She broke off and rested her head next to Danny's arm. "I need him to wake up, so he has to. He cheated on me, Don, so he has to wake up, so I can forgive him for it."

Don walked over to her and leaned down to comfort her, then realized that the only comfort she could possibly get was from the man on the bed with a bullet wound inches from his heart.

"OK," Don said quietly, and left, before giving Danny's shoulder a quick, hesitant pat. "Tell me when he wakes up."

As soon as Don left, Lindsay felt selfish. She was hogging him; she knew that. She wasn't the only one he loved. She wiped her eyes, steadied her breath, and got up. She couldn't help but trail her fingers along Danny's stomach tenderly, a sort of promise to be back when she could.

As soon as she was out the door, Stella hugged her. Lindsay collapsed in her arms, no more tears, only exhaustion.


	2. Chapter 2

This took a little longer than expected ... well, here's the second part.

* * *

Danny blinked open his eyes and ran a mental check of his body. Toes – wiggling. Legs – asleep. Arms – twitchy. Chest – achy. He groaned, the previous day's events coming back to him full force.

"Finally," Flack mumbled from Danny's right. Danny turned his head and saw his friend stretched out in a chair, his arms folded tight against his chest.

Danny grinned.

"You've been out for almost a day now," Flack yawned, stretching his arms. He collapsed back into his chair with a grunt. "It's about time you woke up," he grumbled.

"I appreciate your compassion," Danny chuckled hoarsely. He winced as he shifted in his bed, slowly forcing his body to move again.

"Ease up," Flack said, concerned, "You just had surgery." Danny heeded his advice, though continued to slowly move his limbs.

"The surgery wasn't the hard part," Danny snorted.

"I guess it's not often you get shot in the chest."

"No, I don't really make a habit out of it," Danny shot back. "So … did you … you know, get the guy?"

Flack nodded. The perp had been falsely accused of assaulting and killing a teenage girl, and, once the thought had christened his mind that he might be taken off to jail, he'd pulled out his gun and neatly placed a hole in Danny's chest. After Danny had gone down, a light buzzing had started in Flack's head. He'd turned, his vision had narrowed on the stunned perp. He'd chased the guy for all of two seconds before toppling him to the ground, all the while screaming for someone to call 911.

"Is, uh," Danny started, flexing and moving his fingers, "Is Montana around?"

Flack's face split into a wide grin. He shrugged, "She's around here somewhere, I guess" he said lazily, watching Danny's reaction.

Danny frowned disappointedly. "Oh," he said quietly.

Flack laughed. "I'm kiddin', Danno, she's barely left your side since you got in here."

Danny smiled. "Oh, yeah?"

Flack nodded and ran a hand over his face, forcing himself to wake up. "Stel and I got her to take a break a little while ago. She fell asleep. I'm actually supposed to go get the two of them when you wake up. You awake?" he asked, getting up.

"As awake as I'll ever be," Danny grunted. He put a hand on his chest, feeling the bandage through the thin hospital gown he was wearing. "Am I … uh … gonna be OK and alla that?"

Flack nodded and smiled. "They got the bullet out – it was kinda close to your heart, so they got a little worried, but it's all good. Some rest, chicken noodle soup, and you'll be fine."

When Lindsay walked cautiously into the room a few minutes later, Danny nearly got the wind knocked out of him for the second time that night, though for entirely different reasons this time.

"You look … uh … really nice, Linds," he managed.

She blinked and smoothed down her hair. She had very little idea what he was talking about. Her makeup was smudged, her hair slipping from the previously polished hairstyle she'd arranged before learning that her date had been shot trying to apprehend a suspect.

"Thanks," she said quietly, "How do you feel?"

Danny attempted a weak shrug, then winced. "Well, pretty groggy right now, but give me a few days."

She sat down in Flack's recently vacated chair and took a breath. She looked around the room, taking in Danny's beeping heart monitor, his bandaged chest. She awkwardly smoothed down her silky black dress. Her gaze caught on the opened window.

"Do you want me to close it?" she asked nervously, her voice hushed.

Danny shook his head and closed his eyes. He reached out blindly and picked up his glasses from the bedside table, where they were folded nicely next to a glass of water.

"I woulda listened," he said gruffly.

"Excuse me?" she asked, folding her hands in her lap.

"I woulda listened to you. I wouldn'ta jumped in and interrupted. I didn't have to be unconscious. You just have to talk," he continued, "that's all."

Lindsay watched him open his eyes, look at her, then turned his head away. He frowned at the wall.

The room was filled with their breathing – Lindsay's tired, even sighs, and Danny's labored, shallow ones as he tried to catch his breath.

"I know I shouldn't expect so much. I know you're not as open with me as before … before it happened."

"Before _what _happened?" Lindsay asked almost tauntingly. She caught herself, pushed away the bitterness, and apologized, "I didn't mean that. Sorry," she whispered.

Danny looked at her, and really _saw_ her, for the first time that night. "I love you, too," he murmured, "And I hurt you – really, really, bad – and I'll spend the rest of my life fixing that."

Lindsay nodded, biting her lip. "Not yet, though," she said pensively.

"What, now?" Danny asked, blinking stupidly at her.

"In three weeks."

Danny blinked again.

"You have a hole in your chest. Flack and I are going to switch off babysitting you for the next three weeks. _Then _you can start being my slave."

"Your … your slave, huh? I don't remember mentioning that in my apology," Danny laughed weakly.

"Well, how else do you expect me to forgive you?" Lindsay asked, crawling up onto Danny's bed. She settled herself in the curve of his arm, and rested her head on his shoulder.

Danny chuckled and started stroking her hair with one hand. "I dunno. I was expecting you wanted flowers and wine and picnics and alla that crap."

"Well when you say it like _that …" _Lindsay said sarcastically.

"I'll make another reservation at the restaurant I was takin' you to tonight. For three weeks from now, yeah?"

Lindsay nodded. She closed her eyes and burrowed into Danny's body. "Perfect," she muttered, "Now get some sleep."

Danny kissed her forehead, wincing at the strain it caused his bandage, and closed his eyes.


End file.
